Program Notes

Poles Apart: Music of Finland and Argentina

Program notes by Steven Ledbetter

Jean Sibelius
Symphony No. 1 in E minor, Opus 39

Jean Julius Christian Sibelius was born in Hämeenlinna (then known by the Swedish name Tavastehus), Finland, on December 8, 1865, and died in Jarvenpää, near Helsinki, on September 20, 1957. He took the gallicized form of his first name (which had originally been Johan) in emulation of an uncle. He composed his First Symphony in 1898 and 1899 and conducted its first performance in Helsinki on April 26 of the latter year. The symphony is scored for two flutes (doubling piccolos), two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, four horns, three trumpets, three trombones and tuba, timpani, bass drum, cymbals, triangle, harp, and strings.

It always comes as a surprise to learn that a composer renowned as a nationalistic hero in his homeland was not a native speaker of the language. Sibelius was born to a Swedish-speaking family in a small town in south central Finland and only began to speak some Finnish from the age of eight. He entered a Finnish-language school at eleven, but not until he was a young man did he feel completely at home in the language. (In this respect he was not alone; Austrian cultural domination of Czechoslovakia and Hungary in the nineteenth century meant that Smetana was more fluent in German than in Bohemian, and Liszt, though proud to be regarded as a Hungarian composer, barely spoke the language at all.)

Musical studies began with the violin, and soon he aimed at a career as a professional virtuoso. But in 1885, after an abortive attempt at legal studies, he undertook to pursue composition with Martin Wegelius in Helsinki. Further studies in Berlin introduced him to the newest music, including Strauss's Don Juan at its premiere. He was usually in debt, apparently unable to avoid financial extravagance in the German capital, and already drinking heavily, a habit that remained with him. After his return to Finland in 1891 he composed the choral symphony Kullervo, which was so successful at its premiere in April 1892 that he was immediately established as a leading figure in Finnish music, a position that was never seriously challenged thereafter.

The following seven years saw the composition of a series of scores for dramatic production, a failed operatic attempt, and--most important--a group of purely orchestral scores, En saga and the four symphonic poems about Lemminkäinen, a character from the Finnish national epic Kalevala. These culminated in his first symphony, composed evidently in part as a musical response to Tchaikovsky's Pathétique Symphony, which had been performed in Helsinki already in 1894 and again in 1897. By the autumn of 1898, Sibelius was totally absorbed in the work at a time of great political tension in Finland and of personal concern as well. A diary entry of September 9 reflects his mood: "Autumn sun and bitter thoughts....How willingly I would have sacrificed some of the financial support I have received if I only had some sympathy and understanding of my art--if someone loved my work. O, you slave of your moods, their plaything...." These feelings may be reflected in the autumnal colors of much of the score, and especially in its lonely opening, a solitary clarinet bravely singing its lament over the chill background thunder of a long roll on the timpani. But although he complained of misunderstanding and lack of sympathy, his art was still rooted in the nineteenth century both harmonically and thematically. His first work to be heard in Boston was the Second Symphony in 1904, at which time it was received with general incomprehension, even by such future prominent proponents of his music as critic Olin Downes. But the First offered fewer knotty problems, and once it achieved performance, it was generally accorded favor with audiences both in Finland and elsewhere.

Because of Sibelius's demonstrated interest in the Kalevala, not to mention the passionately dramatic character of much of the music in the symphony, some critics claimed to find a literary program in the music, every theme functioning like a Wagnerian leitmotiv for a character or event. But Sibelius emphatically denied that there was any connection whatever; his symphony (by implication) is a purely abstract musical structure, however characterful its content.

The clarinet solo that opens the symphony dies away on a sustained G, the preceding melodic phrase hinting that the piece will be in G minor. But just as the clarinet settles on its last note, the second violins begin a tremulous sextuplet figure consisting of the notes G and B, which thus hint at G major. We are in fact listening to the home key coalesce out of the very ether, the tonic of E minor appearing clearly only after the first violins begin their muscular statement. A contrasting idea built on a pair of hovering alternating notes in a characteristic rhythm leads seamlessly to a fortissimo restatement for full orchestra of the main E minor theme. A bright tremolo in the strings, joined by the harp, brings in the woodwinds with a dancelike transitional idea derived possibly from the opening clarinet line. An extraordinarily long pedal point—a note held in the bass without changing—underlies the second theme material, which appears in expressive dialogues between the woodwind instruments over a hushed rumbling in the strings. The exposition ends with a unison pizzicato in the strings, twice repeated. The musical argument of the development further intertwines the musical ideas already heard, but with a tendency to grow progressively more chromatic. A momentary lyric interlude (with two solo violins in dialogue) turns into more dramatic stuff with the climax of downward-moving chromatic scales in the woodwinds against upward-rushing chromatic figures (at twice the speed) in the lower strings. Suddenly, against all this activity, the upper strings sing the melody from early in the movement that preceded the fortissimo statement of the first theme. Sibelius works this around to G major (where we first heard it) and plunges us into the heart of the recapitulation, omitting the first main theme statement, since the fortissimo repetition is about to return full force. The recapitulation is a condensed intensification of the beginning, ending in darkly muttering strings.

The slow movement is often cited as the part of the symphony most strikingly influenced by Tchaikovsky's Pathétique. It is a kind of poignant rondo, its C minor melody alternating with other ideas based on the same rhythms and phrase structure, sometimes inverted from a falling to a rising theme. Except for a few woodwind interludes, the colors are predominantly dark. The sadness sometimes explodes in an outburst which eventually dies away in the return of the main theme.
The rambunctious third movement has some of the earthiness of Bruckner's symphonic scherzos, the headlong rhythmic drive of the pizzicato strings at the opening reinforced by the vigor of the timpani and the most important thematic motive in the strings, which has a modal, folklike character. The Trio is a shade slower and altogether more lyrical, even pastoral in feeling, evoking dreams of the countryside driven out by the sudden return of the scherzo.

At the beginning of the finale, the strings give out in unison an expansive, passionate version of the hesitating clarinet melody heard at the very opening of the symphony, now harmonized by the brasses. A certain degree of questioning in the woodwinds, eventually answered by the strings, leads into the dramatically charged Allegro theme that runs through the bulk of the movement, except for the striking moments of contrast provided by the wonderful singing theme on the violins' G string, bringing a chorale-like dignity into the heart of the activity. The symphony closes with an echo of the pizzicato chords that ended the first movement.

ASTOR PIAZZOLLA
Aconcagua, concerto for bandoneon and strings

Astor Piazzolla was born in Mar del Plata, Argentina, on March 11, 1921, and died in Buenos Aires on July 5, 1992. He composed his concerto Aconcagua in September and October 1979. In addition to the solo bandoneon, the score calls for timpani, bass drum, guiro, triangle, harp, piano, and strings.

In the United States the tango was a popular dance genre first introduced from Latin America by Vernon and Irene Castle in 1914 and then used for such popular songs as Sigmund Romberg's Softly as in a morning sunrise (The New Moon, 1928). Just as American jazz developed in the yeasty mix of cultures in New Orleans, Argentine tango blends elements of European—Spanish, Jewish, German, and Italian—with other features from the New World. Tangos in America came to be associated in the popular mind with bordellos and lascivious activity, partly through the films of Rudolph Valentino, a favorite with female audiences in the ’20s for his sultry sensuality. By mid‑century, tangos were parodied in Broadway shows (as in Hernando’s Hideaway from Pajama Game, 1954). But in Latin America, the tango went through no such decline. It was and has remained a popular form of music‑making, often approaching the level of light classics.

The Argentine composer Astor Piazzolla studied composition with Nadia Boulanger in Paris, but recognized (with Boulanger’s enthusiastic support) that he had found his true voice in the tradition of tango. He was extremely popular in his homeland as a composer of dances and songs, but he also extended the concept of tango to a degree not recognized by many purists, who wished to stick with the old‑fashioned tradition. Indeed, it would be fair to compare Piazzolla to a handful of other composers who succeeded in elevating popular dance genres to substantial works of art—Chopin, Johann Strauss the younger, and Scott Joplin. Each of these composers were able to reveal unsuspected riches in a “simple” dance form. The Chopin mazurkas, which evoke an astonishing range of expression from the most exuberant and extrovert to a dark intimacy, perhaps come closest to serving as an analogy to Piazzolla’s achievements with the tango.

The bulk of Piazzolla’s output is in the form of chamber music for a quintet featuring his own instrument, the bandoneon, a type of button-accordion, or concertina, developed in Germany about 1840, which became the principal solo instrument connected with the tango in Argentina at the beginning of this century. Piazzolla himself was a leading exponent of the bandoneon, performing and recording frequently with the instrument.

The score of the Concerto for Bandoneon bears the title Aconcagua, though this is rarely used in referring to it. The three movement work is dated “Sept - 1979 - Oct.”  The orchestra consists of stringed instruments (counting harp and piano in that number), plus a handful of percussion. In this context, the “reedy” sound of the solo bandoneon stands out individually.

The work is dominated by the characteristic rhythm of the tango—4/4 time with an eighth-note pulse parsed as 3+3+2—though Piazzolla often combines different versions of this pattern simultaneously superimposed to create a lively energy and a slightly “Stravinskyan” feel to the rhythmic flow, with many offbeat accents (though, as a whole, the rhythm is far more regular than in Stravinsky). The outer movements are for the most part in a fast tempo with considerable rhythmic emphasis, in which the orchestral parts frequently play rhythmicized block chords against the elaborate solo line of the bandoneon. The central movement is sustained, lyrical, and poignant, with a sense of the tragic view of life that lies at the heart of tango and flirts with sentimentality. But even the fast movements turn at times to the slower and more “inward” expression that characterizes the central movement, and the lively finale unfolds to a sustained dying away marked “melancolico.”

ALBERTO GINASTERA
Estancia, suite from the ballet

Alberto Ginastera was born in Buenos Aires, Argentina, on April 11, 1916, and died in Geneva, Switzerland, on June 25, 1983. He composed Estancia in 1941 for Lincoln Kerstein’s Ballet Caravan, which toured throughout South America with it. The score of the dance suite calls for two flutes (one doubling piccolo), two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoon, four horns, two trumpets, timpani and seven percussionists, piano, and strings.

Argentine composer Alberto Ginastera showed precocious musical gifts and began to take piano lessons at the age of seven; by fourteen he was composing, though he eventually destroyed most of his juvenilia. He graduated with highest honors from the National Conservatory of Buenos Aires in 1938; even before graduation he attracted widespread attention with the ballet score Panambi (1936), following it up a few years later with Estancia (1941); both works dealt with Argentine life and had a strong element of musical folklore enlivened by a brilliant ear for orchestral color and a strong sense of rhythm.

World War II forced Ginastera to postpone accepting a Guggenheim grant to study in the United States, but by 1945, as a result of Péron’s rise to power, he was dismissed from his position at the national military academy. He spent the next several years in the United States, including a summer studying in Aaron Copland’s class at Tanglewood. Though he returned to Argentina and worked at reforming the musical life of his native country, he spent most of his last years abroad, in the United States and Europe, owing to continuing political unrest at home. By the late 1950s he had established an international reputation, and many of his later works were commissioned by organizations north of the Rio Grande (two of his three operas, for example, had their first performances in Washington).

In his later years, when he was widely recognized as the most important Argentine composer of the century, Ginastera composed in a more “international” style derived from the modernist traditions of the mid-century. But it was his early nationalistic ballets that first made his name and that have continued to be performed most frequently. Owing to the success of the precocious ballet score Panambi, Ginastera was selected by Lincoln Kirstein for a new ballet to be featured on the 1941 South American tour of the Ballet Caravan, with choreography by George Balanchine. The premiere immediately established the young composer as the pre‑eminent musical interpreter of Argentine country life.

The word “estancia” refers to a farm or cattle ranch on the vast grass-covered Argentine Pampas. Ginastera felt closely connected to this landscape and once wrote “Whenever I crossed the Pampas or lived in it for a time, my spirit felt inundated by changing impressions, now joyful, now melancholy, some filled with euphoria and others replete with profound tranquility.”
The scenario of the ballet Estancia covers one day, from dawn to dusk, in the life of the ranch. There is a thread of plot about a country girl who despises the city slicker, but comes to admire him when he proves able to perform the rigorous work of the estancia. Ginastera’s music is filled with the rhythmic and melodic character of native popular song and dance. Estancia is best known as an orchestral suite made up of four dances from the ballet—Workers on the Land, Wheat Dance, Kettle Men, and the typical gaucho dance Malambo, reflecting the life of those who work the land and their celebration at day’s end. Much of the ballet generates its vigorous character from the simultaneous occurrence of 3/4 and 6/8 time, a motif that particularly dominates the macho finale Malambo, a dance performed only by men asserting their energetic virility.

© Steven Ledbetter  (www.stevenledbetter.com)

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